Swallow (Kindred Book 2) (9 page)

“I don’t know much about you, Zara,” Ben said. When she glanced his way, he was examining the reflection of the moonlight. “But I do know that you are affiliated with the people who killed Tim. People who dislike Albert and all he stands for.”

“And you think that we’re indiscriminate killers out to tear down the happiness of others?”

“No,” he said and shook his head as he laughed and twisted to face her. “But I do think it’s easier to be seduced by the dark side than it is to build something good from nothing. To be a part of our community, you have to be willing to put in time. It takes effort and hard work. No one gets a free ride here. Even the kids help with the land and the milking. But you get out what you put in and being a part of this… it’s the most incredible place in the world. I wish you could see that.”

His naivety reminded her of her own. “I don’t doubt that most of the people here believe this community is the end game, that this is the point. But don’t you see that this is a cult? Like so many other thousands of them that have come before, and how many of them end well? You’ve been deceived or you’re deceiving me.”

“To what end?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “Do you think you’re that much of a prize?”

If Sutcliffe could win her over, he could recruit anyone. “No, but I think that Sutcliffe believes me to be. Because if I take up your politics and subscribe to your cause…”

“What?”

The truth was so much easier than any lie. “It will damage my allies. He may even believe I’d use my influence with them in order to alleviate the pressure on his cause.”

Bafflement made a groove form between his brows. “I don’t understand,” he said. “What do your allies give you? Do you have a similar community? Are you all pulling on the same oar for the same purpose?”

When he put it that way, she had to take her attention back to the water to figure out the answer. What did she get from the Kindred? They didn’t have a utopian land where she had crowds of people invested in her well-being. At that moment, the only person she could rely on was Tuck. Yet, he had been right when pointing out that although they were friends, and cared about each other, there was no vested interest in their relationship which would dictate the likelihood of any decision to go above and beyond for each other.

What she got from the Kindred was her man. Brodie. Her love. And as distant as he was at the moment, it didn’t change her dedication to him. She had missed him this weekend and although she knew she was staying away for his own good, it didn’t alleviate her want to be by his side. If she had been able to crawl into his bed and rest her face on his chest after the attack in Purdy’s, she wouldn’t have dealt with as much anxiety about taking Elvis’s life, of that she was sure.

“We do want the same thing,” she said. “And our ends are not nearly as nefarious as yours. What does Sutcliffe tell his recruits? Are you told to move here and take up a role on the farm and live happily ever after with a cult girl? What about the women? What purpose do they have? Are the children tools at Sutcliffe’s disposal as well?”

Maybe he was curious about her, but all she read was negative judgment. “You hate him, don’t you? Why is that?”

“He killed my friend,” she said without any hesitation. “He sent his nephew Tim to seduce me in order to use me for his own means.”

“Which were?”

Watching him, she anticipated any flicker that might indicate Ben’s knowledge level. “They want a device, one built by the company I work for, CI. Grant’s company. They want us to be a part of this group not because it’s best for us, but because of what we can offer them. What do you do for a living?” she asked, wondering if new members were selected for similar reasons, what they could offer Sutcliffe, rather than what Sutcliffe could offer them.

“I’m a physical therapist,” he said.

She tilted her head in a slow, single nod. “Medicine,” she said, with exaggerated interest. “That’s significant. You can offer useful skills to Sutcliffe.”

“I have my own practice.”

Ben might think that he was exonerating Sutcliffe. Instead he was giving her another opportunity. “And you’re a business man as well, even more fruits for Sutcliffe to select from. You are a useful prize for him.”

“So if I work with him and don’t charge him for it, what? I’m evil? I’m going straight to hell?”

She almost wanted to spit out at the word because such a concept was so far beyond what these people were capable of. Tucking her hands over the edge of the log, she leaned forward.

“This place is not what you think it is. And I’m sorry to be the one to tell you that. But it’s not.”

“I thought I was supposed to be educating you about the merits of what we’re trying to achieve,” Ben said, and his cordial manner made her sorry for what he was going to find out. He wanted this place to be his savior, and now she would have to obliterate his illusion.

“I know that you’re here to convince me of Sutcliffe’s benevolence. But I have a feeling you were sent because you’re as naive to the truth as I once was. Who better to convince me of his intentions than a man who believes he is nothing but good?”

“So educate me,” Ben said, turning to throw a leg over the log so that he was straddling it to look straight at her.

To prevent any misconception of dishonesty, she moved into a similar position, but crossed her legs on their solid base and held her purse on her folded shins to ensure Tuck would have the clearest possible audio of the conversation.

Zara didn’t worry about revealing Sutcliffe’s secrets. She had no loyalty to him. Ben deserved to know the truth and maybe planting a seed of doubt would cause him to ask questions in front of others. Breaking up the cult from the inside was unlikely, but any dissension aided her cause.

Gearing up for a candid conversation, she moistened her lips. “The device that he wants from CI is meant to spread disease.”

He frowned, and she took that as a signal that she’d been right about his ignorance. “Why would your company produce such a product?”

She shook her head, frustrated that he was fixating on the wrong thing. “That doesn’t matter. It wasn’t the original purpose for the product. That’s just one of the ways it can be applied and that’s why your boss, your landlord, wants it.”

“Why would he—“

“He wants to cleanse the world,” she said and was pleased to see that Ben looked as horrified as she’d felt the first time she’d learned about Game Time and what it could be used for.

“That doesn’t sound like Albert.”

“Maybe you don’t know him as well as you thought.”

Noise beyond the tree line stopped her from saying anything else. Either they were being listened to or someone was about to interrupt them, whichever it was, she didn’t want to be hung for naysaying by the good townsfolk.

As it was, Grant broke through with a man she didn’t know and they beckoned her over to say it was time to go home. Ben buddied her back to the chopper that was already warming up for take-off. Just before she parted from his side, he slid a business card into her hand.

“If you have any more questions,” he called over the racket of the rotors. “Or you want to talk some more. Give me a call.”

She nodded and offered a smile in thanks for his hospitality. Whether or not he knew the truth of what Sutcliffe was cooking, he had been an amiable host. So she got back into the chopper with Grant, who made eye contact as they were taking off. Powerful searchlights lit their ascent, but soon they were drifting away from the Sutcliffe compound.

It would take a while to get back to CI, but she was grateful that the excursion was ending. She was eager to talk to Tuck, she wanted to recount her impressions and her experience with Ben. After all she’d seen, she had a better idea of who Sutcliffe was, but that didn’t make her any more comfortable with his motivation or his desire to harness Game Time.

Grant tried to tempt her into coming back to his apartment. He said that there were things they had to discuss. But after the chopper ride, she was exhausted and Tuck was her priority. She needed confirmation that he had heard her conversation with Ben and for his take on how they should move forward.

After giving Grant assurances that she would think about what they had learned today, she went upstairs to her apartment and didn’t bother turning on any lights because the only place she wanted to be was in her bed.

Stripping off on her way through the living room, she didn’t bother to pick up her clothes, or even to collect her purse from where she’d dropped it onto the floor beside her keys after locking the door. There were too many thoughts in her head, too many possibilities. She needed help sorting through them because all she felt was overwhelmed.

By the time she reached her bedroom, she was naked, and would be visible to anyone outside. The only ones who could see her this high up were those who had a camera pointing into her home: the Kindred. She was sleeping with half of those who could put eyes on the feed. They’d have to zoom in and adjust to night vision if they wanted to see anything, and she doubted Tuck was inclined to do that. He had already confirmed he had no interest in sleeping with her and was dedicated to Kadie anyway.

With a yawn contorting her features, she pushed into her bedroom and closed the door with her weight. Sagging against the door, the cool silk of her kimono tickled her back, but she wasn’t going to cover herself, not when her welcoming bed beckoned to her.

Glancing to the chair in the corner, she thought about Brodie and craved the old days when he would come to her. She needed him now and hated the sore pang of disappointment that snapped in her chest every time she was reminded that she was dealing with this alone. Brodie had his own shit to process. He would take his rightful place in the Kindred chain of command when he was ready.

Berating herself for languishing in the past, Zara drifted toward the bed and crawled onto it to lie right in the middle, face down on the pillow.

“Old habits die hard.”

The sound of his husky voice made her gasp and sit, pulling the comforter to her chest as she did. The room was so dark, she couldn’t see much, then the lamp on her nightstand lit up and she saw her memory come to life.

Fright became delight and the weight of the world lifted from her shoulders. “Brodie,” she said, unable to believe this was real. But it did appear that he was in her bedroom, standing in the corner diagonally opposite his old haunt, just to keep her guessing.

“Why am I coming to you here?” he asked and didn’t sound impressed.

Even if he was mad, she’d take it. He’d come out of the manor for her. Over the last three months, he had chosen not to leave the manor for anything. Yet, here he was in her bedroom. Nothing could extinguish this joy. She needed him and he was here. He’d been a recluse blinded by grief, and he was out in the world again. This could mean he was coming back to her and to the Kindred.

For a few seconds she forgot all about Sutcliffe, Grant, and Game Time. The man she loved was emerging, he was healing, and she’d underestimated what a relief it would be to her to see him make progress. This was more than a baby step; this was a massive leap in the right direction.

The light didn’t offer complete illumination and until he slunk out of the corner, she couldn’t see his expression. His hair was a mess, but it hadn’t been cut in three months, and his scruffy face was adorned by a judgmental glare, but her insides clenched at this sight of him in her bedroom again.

“Grant dropped me off,” she said, trying not to over play her elation for fear it might scare Brodie back into hiding. The realization of her dilemma cooled the fizz of happiness. She’d been with Grant at Sutcliffe’s ranch, days after being attacked in Purdy’s where she’d killed a man. But how much should she tell Brodie? How much truth could he take? “We’ve been… we got back late and… I couldn’t tell him to take me to the manor, could I? And, uh… Swift and I thought it would be a good idea if you didn’t… if you and I didn’t…”

“He told me,” Brodie said and another surge of relief flooded her. The last thing she wanted to do was lie to Brodie.

Dropping down to sit on the bed, he seized her chin and pulled her face into the light so he could see her bruises. For the first time in what felt like forever, his hand came around to the back of her neck and he gripped her so tight that she yelped at the pleasure it gave her to feel his familiar touch.

As happy as she was, he appeared equally pissed. “You’re going to tell me how the fuck this happened or I’m going to tear apart this world until I find every man responsible.”

“Baby,” she exhaled and slid a hand from his chest up his neck to the coarse stubble on his jaw. “I killed him. The man who did this to me… I killed him.”

The words were so quiet, she didn’t know if he’d heard them until the darkness in his eyes grew to an onyx glow. Just like that, the happiness dissolved and the gravity of truth hit her full force. The moisture she’d dammed in her eyes since Friday night came out and when her face fell into his chest, he kept hold of her neck and rested an elbow over her shoulder securing her against him.

If she wasn’t so distraught, she might have worried that he was going to push her away as he had done so many times in recent months. But he didn’t. He held her close and used his other arm to adjust her position. She was still lost in her crying spree and didn’t pay any attention to what he was doing until he laid her down.

Lifting her face from his shoulder, she swallowed and sniffed in the remnants of her upset. “Sorry, I don’t know where that came from,” she said, wiping away her tears on each side of her face with the length of her index fingers.

Lying on his side beside her, he smoothed the hair back from her forehead. Tearing her attention away from the ceiling, she blinked at him and saw him look at her, really look at her, for the first time in months.

Being here, beside him, made every moment of torment worth it. He was still her man and if she’d ever doubted his affection for her, all of those doubts were erased now in the way he gazed down at her, bathing her in his adoration. “If I’d known it took getting beat up and almost sexually assaulted to get your attention, I’d have done it weeks ago,” she said and had meant it as a joke, but his expression lost its softness.

“Now I know the what,” he said. “Tell me about the who.”

Taking a deep breath, she wanted to start at the beginning and take full advantage of this opportunity to talk to him, as she’d wanted to since the crime had happened. “I had no idea,” she whispered, drawing her finger around the line of his tee shirt neck. “When I pulled that trigger it was… I warned him more than once…he hit the floor and he was just… staring.”

“The police were called?” he asked and she nodded.

It was a good sign that he was concerned for her liberty and for the heat that might now be on the Kindred. “They’re not pressing charges, they say it was self-defense. Kraft looked after me. He got me out of there without being seen.”

“Why didn’t they take you to the hospital?” he asked.

“Kraft offered,” she said. “But I knew it wasn’t that bad. I refused to see the paramedics. Kraft told me to take it easy, that I might be concussed. I hit my head on the sink.” She touched the bump on her hairline.

“You’ve got a black eye,” he said, grazing the edge of her cheekbone with a fingertip.

This was like the early days, them lying together in her bed, his hands arousing her with the simplest of touches. “I know,” she said, closing her eyes while he stroked his fingertips on her face. “I thought I was going to pass out when Elvis punched me. If his buddy hadn’t been there to hold me up, I would’ve been on the floor for sure.”

When he stopped touching her, she opened her eyes and was wary of the darkness growing behind his scowl. “Why did he punch you?” he asked and the set of his jaw concerned her further. He wasn’t happy, she just couldn’t figure out why.

Being honest, as Tuck had told her was so important, she told the truth, even though it might upset him. “I told him that you’d hunt him down if he didn’t let me go.”

Satisfaction became pride. “You know me so well,” he muttered. Laying a hand on her thigh, he ran it up over her hip and her abdomen to let it rest beneath her breast.

She had to make him see that there was no reason for him to be angry, because the man responsible for her pain had been eliminated. “Yeah, well, I saved you the trouble. When he dragged me into the bathroom and pulled his dick out, I shot him.”

“Atta girl,” he said, pressing a kiss into her forehead.

“I don’t feel proud,” she admitted and opened her hands on his chest to slide them up to his shoulders.

He curled a finger under her chin to bring her eyes to his. “You should be. You did what you were supposed to. I should’ve been the one to put a bullet in the bastard. I diverted your call.” Falling onto his back, he pressed both hands into his face and took a deep breath that expanded his chest.

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” she said, reassuring him, assuaging any guilt he might feel. Doing his job, killing, didn’t make him feel guilty. But he didn’t have to spell it out for her, he felt responsible for Art’s death. Even though it wasn’t his fault, the doubt kept him questioning what he could have done to prevent the killing from taking place. “You would never have gotten there in time and there was no line of sight to the bathroom.”

Rolling onto his side to glare down at her, his determination was back and it was something she hadn’t seen in him since before Art died. “You think I’d have taken him out from across the street?” he sounded insulted. “Any guy who dares puts his hands on my girl gets my attention up close and personal.”

His girl. God, it felt good to hear him get possessive of her. “Brodie,” she whispered and rubbed her hands up and down his chest. In response to her unspoken request, he laid on his back to let her crawl on top of him to rest her head on his shoulder and caress her lips on his jaw. “Where have you been, beau? Why did you leave me?”

“Because I’m a prick,” he said, twining his hands into her hair. “I forgot that there was a fight out there. I was too busy fighting a battle with myself.”

His voice was clear and keen, he spoke with no equivocation, and that decisive certainty inspired her. “I would never have had the gumption to do what I did if it wasn’t for you,” she said. “You taught me to fight. There were twenty people in that room and not one of them did anything.”

“Twenty people?”

“In Purdy’s,” she said, if Tuck had filled him in, he had to know some of the particulars. “Grant asked me to go for a drink. He said I had to get back to my routine. I haven’t been into Purdy’s since before… you know. I thought it couldn’t hurt since I planned to spend the weekend at the manor. Boy, was I wrong.”

Closing one hand around the back of her neck, he squeezed, holding her still while his other hand stroked her body. She felt so safe, nothing could hurt her in this place and with Brodie returning to form, responsibility left her purview. The Kindred was his jurisdiction, she was too, and her faith in his ability to protect both didn’t waver.

“You probably saved the lives of everyone there,” he said. They laid with each other in silence for so long that her eyes began to close as her body surrendered to exhaustion. “But you and me have got to talk about our problem.”

Being that there were so many problems in their lives, she couldn’t pinpoint what he was talking about but suggesting they had a private problem could spell bad news for their relationship. A blast of alarm woke her up. “Problem?” she asked. “What problem?”

Clutching the back of her neck, he pulled her up and used his other hand to grip her chin. “Don’t ever hide anything from me again. It’s not your job to protect me. I’ve seen shit like this more times than you can count. Don’t hide yourself because you think the sight of you will make me lose it. Anyone ever touches you again, you come straight to me. Don’t think about it. Come to me.”

He didn’t blink. The thump of his heart beneath hers shook her form and pumped in unison with the resolve radiating from him. “Ok,” she said and had to clear her throat to rid the squeak from her tone. She wasn’t scared of him chastising her. That he was angry proved the strength of his regard for her and any display of his feelings was stimulating. “I won’t ever hide from you again.”

Pushing her head back onto his chest, he squeezed her tight, imprinting her body onto his. Zara was so grateful to have him here. She needed his strength. Tuck had clued him in and Brodie had come here to wait for her, to be here for her when she got back. Having a mission to think about focused his mind, and Zara wondered why it hadn’t occurred to her before now that a distraction was what he needed.

With his fingers tangled in her hair, he obviously wasn’t as tired as her because his voice was alert. “Didn’t you tell me about somebody getting killed?”

“I told you about the funeral I was going to. A CI VP was killed by a mugger,” she said. “And I found out that a member of Grant’s household staff was killed on the same day. Sutcliffe claimed responsibility, but it could just be a crazy coincidence and Sutcliffe’s being opportunistic by taking the credit.”

Intrigue slowed his stroking hand. “Recognizing a coincidence is the first step to solving a mystery,” he said, easing her down onto the bed. “That’s what Art used to say.”